


Home Game

by LydiaBSlade



Series: Destination Unknown [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Military, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, BenArmie AU, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Dysfunctional Family, Hand Jobs, Hux is problematic, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Military Kink, Mitaka can’t catch a break, Referenced BenPoe, Referenced Underage Ben/OFC, References to Depression, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Slight Mitaka/Thanisson, So is Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaBSlade/pseuds/LydiaBSlade
Summary: “I had no idea that sucking your dick at our graduation party would eventually mean I’d have to pretend to care about college sports.” Ben gets dragged to an Army football game; Hux makes it up to him afterwards. Also, Hux makes an unsurprising discovery about Mitaka.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note for anyone concerned about the tags: the referenced homophobia is mostly in the first chapter and the references to mental health issues, domestic violence, and dysfunctional families are mostly in the second chapter. Also the second chapter is where most of the porn is. Please see the content warnings at the end of each chapter if you’d like more detail before you read.

_Ky10_R3n: hey what are you doing this weekend_

_Ky10_R3n: i reserved a room at one of the gross motels outside the gate for Saturday night_

_Ky10_R3n: let me know if I should cancel it_

Hux peers blearily at the blinking instant-message window on his laptop. It’s not quite six A.M. Apparently Ben has insomnia again. 

_x75717: okay_

_x75717: I have to go to a football game Saturday and you know I can’t stay the night but otherwise I’m free_

_Ky10_R3n: since when do you care so much about football_

_Ky10_R3n: is this another weird thing that you’re doing so people will think you’re straight?_

_x75717: no_

_x75717: the home games are mandatory_

_x75717: they march us up there_

_x75717: I’m sure I’ve told you this before_

_Ky10_R3n: you probably did tell me and then I mentally blocked it out because it was too stupid to keep in my brain_

_Ky10_R3n: mandatory football games, oh my god why_

_Ky10_R3n: as if compulsory heterosexuality wasn’t bad enough already_

_x75717: if you come to the game I can sit with you instead of having to jump around pretending to care about the score_

_Ky10_R3n: wait you have to jump around? Like a cheerleader?_

_Ky10_R3n: I’m only coming if I get to watch you do that_

_x75717: they make us stand for the entire game and do a bunch of chants and things_

_x75717: and we have to do push-ups if the Army team scores_

_x75717: although there’s not much of that because the Army team is terrible_

_x75717: anyway if I have a guest I can sit with you instead_

_Ky10_R3n: so you’re saying that I have to come watch football with you and I don’t even get to see you in a cheerleader outfit?_

_Ky10_R3n: ugh hux why_

_Ky10_R3n: I had no idea that sucking your dick at our graduation party would eventually mean I’d have to pretend to care about college sports_

_x75717: does that mean you’ll be there?_

_Ky10_R3n: I guess_

_x75717: okay I’ll get you a ticket for Saturday_

_Ky10_R3n: apparently giving you that blowjob back in June was a terrible idea_

_Ky10_R3n: with hideous unforeseen consequences_

_Ky10_R3n: lesson learned_

***

In the afternoon, Hux comes back to the barracks early after his military science class is canceled. He opens the door to his room, then freezes.

Mitaka is frantically trying to disentangle himself from another boy - a skinny blond kid whose name Hux has forgotten. Peter something? Peter Something has been coming over a lot lately, allegedly because he and Mitaka are lab partners. Hux generally puts on his headphones and tries to ignore both of them. 

Now Peter and Mitaka are both looking at Hux with identically terrified, guilty faces. Peter is sitting in Mitaka’s desk chair as if petrified. When Hux opened the door, Mitaka had been straddling Peter, kissing him; at the sound of the door opening, he had tried to leap up out of Peter’s lap and had gotten his leg caught under the arm of the chair. He’s now managed to extricate himself, but his shirt is still unbuttoned.

“Hi,” says Hux, eventually, letting the door close behind him. “I guess I should have knocked.”

“Sorry,” Peter mutters. “I’ll just be going.”

“Pete - wait,” says Mitaka, but he’s already halfway out the door. Mitaka looks at Hux appealingly, his brown eyes huge and frightened. “Hux - I’m sorry about that - we weren’t - “

“Whatever,” Hux says curtly. His heart is pounding. “It’s none of my business.”

“So you won’t - you’re not going to - “

“Report you? No.”

“Hux - thank you so much - I was so scared.” Mitaka takes a step forward, his arms open as if to hug Hux, then stops, as if afraid that that gesture might be misconstrued.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Hux says stiffly. “As I understand it, the policy doesn’t require me to report you.”

“Well - thank you anyway,” Mitaka says, sounding relieved. “I’m so lucky you’re my roommate, Hux.”

“It’s fine,” Hux says, turning away and sitting down at his desk, wanting very much for this conversation to be over. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Mitaka takes a deep breath. “Oh, Pete forgot his backpack. I’ll just go take it to him.”

As soon as Mitaka leaves, Hux calls Ben. 

“Hey,” Ben says, “what’s up?”

“I just walked on Mitaka kissing his lab partner,” Hux says excitedly. “His _male_ lab partner.”

“Oh,” Ben says, not sounding especially interested. “Well, good for him. I guess he’s gotten over his little crush on you.”

“Don’t you see what this means? This is such a relief!”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking about it from your perspective,” Ben says, his voice warming. “It is really awesome that you’ll actually have someone you can talk to for a change. I’m happy for you, Hux.”

“What?” says Hux. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I’m relieved because this means he can’t ever report me for anything. Because I know this about him now.”

“Wait,” Ben says. “So you’re not going to tell him about us?”

“No. Why would I do that?” 

“I don’t know, because it might be nice for you to actually have a real friend for once in your life?” Ben says incredulously. “What the fuck, Hux.”

“I’m already taking enough of a risk every time I see you,” Hux says angrily. “I’m not going to add to that by giving Mitaka information he doesn’t need. That he could use against me.”

“You’re so paranoid - he’s not going to use it against you! He likes you, for some reason.”

“Oh thanks.”

“And this is Mitaka - this is a person who literally jumped in front of a gun for a total stranger. You’re his roommate! That he has a crush on! He’s not going to do anything to hurt you.”

“People get in trouble here because of their roommates all the time! That’s, like, the easiest way to get turned in. A girl in my company just got hundreds of hours because her roommate turned her in for fraternizing with an upperclassman.”

“Hundreds of hours?”

“If you get hours you have to walk around the courtyard for five hours at a time, in your dress uniform, with a rifle, on the weekends,” Hux says. “It’s a punishment. She got two hundred hours, I think.”

“Okay, we’ve already established that your school is a prison camp, that’s not the point,” Ben says. “The point is that now Mitaka thinks you might turn _him_ in if he pisses you off. Why do you want to do that to him?”

“Since when do you care so much about Mitaka? You don’t even like him.”

“Okay, granted, I wasn’t thrilled that you were living with a guy who obviously wanted to fuck you,” Ben says, taking a deep breath, “but it sounds like he’s moved on, so whatever. And, you know, just general human decency. This policy is already messing up our lives. Now you’re going to use it in - in some kind of Machiavellian scheme to make sure your roommate can’t ever do anything you don’t want him to do?”

“There’s no scheme! I’m not making him do anything! I already told him I’m not going to report him. I’m just not going to give him information that could get me kicked out.”

“He can’t get you kicked out without getting kicked out himself! It would be, like, mutually-assured destruction.”

“I don’t want mutually-assured destruction,” Hux says furiously. “I’m not going to pin all my career aspirations on Mitaka’s ability to keep a secret. He’s clearly terrible at that.”

“No, he’s clearly a normal human being who wants to make out with his boyfriend in his own bedroom! That doesn’t mean he’s going to tell anyone else about you.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to make that really easy for him by continuing to not tell him anything he doesn’t need to know,” Hux says firmly. “And like I said, I already told him I’m not going to report him. I don’t understand why you’re so pissed at me.”

“What, exactly, did you say to him?”

“I told him that, as I understand it, the policy doesn’t require me to report him. So I’m not going to do it.”

“That makes it sound like you’d turn him in in a heartbeat if you found out you were supposed to! That’s not reassuring.”

“I can’t help that. I was actually trying to be reassuring, believe it or not.”

“Hux,” Ben says, “I believe you, but honestly sometimes it’s like you have no idea how to be a human being. Sometimes it’s like - you’re like one of those monkeys that has issues with other monkeys because it was taken away from its mother and raised by a wire doll.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hux snaps. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” He slams the phone down. It rings again immediately. He stares at it for a moment, then picks it up with a sigh.

“Hux, I’m really sorry,” Ben says immediately. “I forgot - you actually did lose your mother when you were little, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Hux says flatly. “She died. Of pancreatic cancer. When I was six.”

“I’m really sorry,” Ben says again. “I know, I’m an idiot sometimes, I never know when to shut up.”

“Yes.”

“You know, you can talk to me. About your mother. If you want.”

“Okay. Thanks. I have to go.”

“Hux, wait,” Ben says. “Do you still want me to come up this weekend?”

“I already bought you a ticket for the game.”

“So that means yes?”

Hux sighs. “Yes,” he says.

“Are you still pissed at me?”

“Ben, I have to go. I have drill in ten minutes - my company is in the parade this weekend.”

“Wait, you’re going to be in a parade?”

“Yes, there’s one before every football game.”

Ben laughs. “Your culture’s rituals are strange but fascinating,” he says. “Are there floats? Can I cheer when you parade by?”

“Please don’t,” says Hux, hanging up. 

***

Saturday is sunny but cold; the sky over the football stadium is so intensely blue that it looks unreal, like a film set. Along the Hudson River the trees are brilliantly orange and gold. The cadets at the game have received official authorization to wear earmuffs. 

Ben and Hux are sitting in the bleachers, across the field from the mass of cadets jostling each other in their grey woolen uniforms. Ben’s hair is almost down to his shoulders now; the November sun glints in the waves of his hair and on the silver studs near the tips of his ears. Apparently he’s stopped bothering to take out his piercings before coming up to West Point. 

He hunches forward, his elbows on his knees, peering moodily at the cadets across the field. “What are they doing now?” he asks, as the cadets suddenly whistle in unison and begin moving their arms up and down rhythmically. 

Hux shrugs. “It’s called the Rocket,” he says. “I don’t know, it’s a tradition.”

“You know what this place is like?” Ben says.

“I do, actually, know what it’s like,” Hux says. “I live here. But I’m sure you’re going to explain it to me anyway.”

“It’s like in ‘The Once and Future King,’ when Arthur goes to the kingdom of the ants,” Ben says. “You know, the part where they’re like, ‘Everything not forbidden is compulsory.’ That’s how this place is.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “What an original, cutting-edge critique of military culture,” he says. “Comparing soldiers to ants. I’ve definitely never heard that one before.”

“Now you have.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

“Anytime.”

“You know what you should do?” Hux says. 

“What?”

“You should start your own military organization where everyone just does whatever they want all the time. Then get back to me about how well that works out for you in combat.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, “because forcing everyone to watch football is such important preparation for combat. I must’ve forgotten about all the famous battles where eleven guys did the actual fighting while the rest of the army cheered and ate hot dogs.”

“Okay,” says Hux, “granted, I hate having my time wasted like this, but I can at least theoretically appreciate that this is supposed to build camaraderie and unit cohesion. It’s a tradition.”

On the field, Baylor scores against the Army team. The cadets in the stands boo loudly. “Baylor hates America!” they chant.

Ben laughs. “I guess that’s one way to build camaraderie,” he says. “Force people to stand out in the cold for hours watching their team get the crap kicked out of them. At least you guys looked pretty cool in your parade this morning.”

“Thanks,” Hux says, feeling oddly warmed by the idea of Ben watching him at parade drill. Hux loves the pageantry of the parades - something which, he is aware, makes him unusual among his peers, most of whom would do almost anything short of shooting themselves to get out of drill. For Hux, the crisp precision of each movement, the way the sunlight glints on the bayonets and polished brass, is deeply satisfying to an aesthetic impulse that he rarely expresses in other areas of his life. He is secretly looking forward very much to receiving the ceremonial saber and plumed hat that will be part of his parade uniform during his senior year. “I feel like drill is one of these traditions that connects us to the history of being a soldier,” he says. “Even though we don’t literally march into battle in our dress uniforms like that anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben says. “It’s like cosplay. Military cosplay.”

Hux frowns. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it is,” Ben says. “That’s why it looks cool. Plus, when you guys did that ‘eyes right!’ thing as you passed us, you looked just like the elves at Helm’s Deep.”

“Well, I’m glad you found at least one thing here that you enjoy,” Hux says, annoyed. 

“I enjoy lots of things here,” Ben says, nudging Hux with his shoulder and smiling crookedly at him. He leans in to speak softly into Hux’s ear. “Like eating you out in the secret porn locker room.”

Hux flushes. “Shhhh,” he hisses. “We can’t talk about that here.”

“No?” Ben says, still breathing into Hux’s ear, making him shiver. “So you don’t want me to tell you about everything else I want to do to you?”

“ _No_.”

“You sure? You don’t want to hear about how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about riding your cock? About how good it felt when you fucked me?”

“Seriously, stop,” Hux says, squirming in his hard plastic seat. His face feels hot. “Later.”

“Okay, okay,” Ben says, laughing. He leans close to Hux’s ear again. “But sucking you off in the men’s room would be so much more fun than watching your school suck at football.”

Hux allows himself to picture it for a second: Ben on his knees on the filthy floor, looking up at Hux with the blissful, almost drugged expression that always comes over his face when he has Hux’s cock in his mouth. “We can’t,” he says.

“I know, I know,” Ben says with a sigh. He bounces his knee irritably. “How much longer is this game going to last, anyway?”

Hux looks at his watch. “A couple more hours, probably.”

“Oh my god,” Ben says, flinging himself backwards dramatically and putting his hands over his face. An elderly man sitting nearby in a Black Knights hat looks at him disapprovingly. “I’m going to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” Hux says impatiently. He’s still looking at Ben’s mouth, feeling very conscious of the warmth of Ben’s thigh against his own. Ben looks up at him, sees Hux’s expression, and smirks. Hux turns to stare fixedly at the field.

“Oh hey,” Ben says after a moment, bumping his knee against Hux’s. “I’ve been meaning to ask you - do you know what you’re doing for Thanksgiving yet?”

“Going home, I guess,” Hux says. “We’ve never really done much for Thanksgiving. I mean, it’s not a holiday in the UK. Sometimes one of my father’s colleagues will invite us over for dinner. Have turkey and all that.” He shrugs.

“Do you want to come stay with us?” Ben asks. “Don’t expect too much - it’s usually just my parents and my uncle and me, and I can’t stand my uncle. Sometimes some of my dad’s sketchy friends show up - it’ll be pretty lively if they do.”

Hux hesitates. “I can’t stay the whole weekend, or my father will wonder what’s going on. But yeah, maybe.”

“We used to have better Thanksgivings before my grandparents died,” Ben says. “They lived out in Brighton Beach, so it’d be, like, a million Russians all crammed into this tiny apartment. They always had to have a huge turkey, because Russian immigrants love America. Plus tons of Russian food and alcohol. I remember eating leftover piroshkis on the beach afterwards - I miss that.”

Hux glances at him. “We could do that.”

“What, have Russian food for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah. Or just the piroshkis on the beach. We could skip whatever our families are doing and do that instead.” 

Ben smiles at Hux, his face suddenly soft. “Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: in this chapter, Hux walks in on Mitaka kissing Thanisson and Mitaka is afraid that Hux will report him. Hux says that he won’t, but he isn’t very reassuring. There’s no homophobic language or violence, but the institutional/internalized homophobia that has been present throughout the series is somewhat more prominent here.
> 
> Also - fair warning! - Ben and Hux talk about sex. 
> 
> One additional note: as far as I could determine, the canon version of Thanisson has only one name, like Cher. So I named him Pete.
> 
>  
> 
> Update: if you’d like to see Hux in his parade uniform, Wildfang drew this gorgeous portrait of him and Ben here (https://twitter.com/wildfang_butts/status/1104747803702636545?s=21). Please go check out her beautiful art on Twitter (@wildfang_butts) and Tumblr (https://wildfang-art.tumblr.com) and tell her how talented she is!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the endnotes for detailed content warnings.

Two hours later, Ben is already up and bouncing impatiently in the aisle as the school songs play at the close of the game. The sun has moved and their seats are now in the shade; the cold has sunk in through the woolen layers of Hux’s uniform. He wants Ben’s warm hands on him. His own hands feel numb inside his leather gloves.

“I can’t believe we still have to walk all the way to the motel,” Ben says, bumping deliberately into Hux from behind as they leave the stadium. “Maybe we should just go back to the porn locker room.”

Hux walks faster, trying to get out of the crowd of football fans. “I thought the whole point of the motel room was so that we wouldn’t have to sneak off to places like that.”

Ben grins at him. “Yeah, but it just seems like a waste when there’s so much porn about locker rooms.” He nudges Hux with his hip. “And I was thinking about what you said about how you guys have group showers. We could role-play.”

“Our group showers aren’t sexy.”

“They would be if I were there.”

“You only think that because you’ve never actually been herded into a small room with forty other sweaty guys and ten showerheads and given ninety seconds to get clean,” Hux says.

“I could do a lot in ninety seconds,” Ben says, waggling his eyebrows. “Forty guys might be ambitious, though.” 

“That reminds me,” Hux says. “One of the weirder things that happened during basic training was that this random officer, some old guy, decided to yell at my whole company at breakfast formation about how we were taking showers wrong. He said he’d seen us running in and out of the shower in under thirty seconds and that we couldn’t possibly really be clean, and that he wanted the upperclassmen to inspect us and enforce better showering habits.”

Ben laughs. “Are you serious?”

“Yes! That really happened. I still don’t even know who that guy was. He just appeared out of nowhere to yell at us about showers and then we never saw him again.”

“Did they do it? Inspect you guys, I mean?” 

“You’re way more interested than you normally are when I tell stories about basic training,” Hux says drily. “No, the upperclassmen were, like, ‘We don’t get paid enough to teach you guys how to wash your balls,’ and I guess that guy never came back to make them do it.”

“Maybe you should inspect me,” Ben says suggestively, nudging Hux again. “Make sure I’m clean.”

Hux swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I should.”

“What if I’m not?” Ben asks, looking sideways at Hux through his long eyelashes. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’d have to clean you up,” Hux says, half-whispering. They’re walking close together, their shoulders bumping, gloved hands touching. “Make you strip, shove you into the shower, soap you up.”

Ben breathes in. “Yeah,” he says. “You should definitely do that.”

At the motel, Hux waits outside, trying to look casual in his dress uniform, while Ben checks in. A middle-aged blond woman in a Baylor hat gets out of a truck just as Ben comes back outside with the room keys.

“I just want to shake your hand,” says the woman, walking over. Hux glances around, looking to see who she’s talking to, before he realizes that she means him.

“Uh, sure,” he says, reaching out awkwardly. She clasps his hand firmly in both of hers. He moves their joined hands up and down, then unsuccessfully tries to pull away. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I just want to thank you for your service,” she says sincerely, still holding onto his hand. Her blue eyes are very bright. “I was cheering for the other team today, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate what y’all do for our country. How much you sacrifice.”

Behind Hux, Ben laughs. “It’s okay,” Ben says. “Right now, he’s mostly just going to chemistry class and making life miserable for his roommate.”

“For now,” the woman says, looking at them significantly. “We all know where he’s going in a few more years.”

“Well, thank you,” says Hux, managing to pull his hand back at last. It feels damp inside his glove. “We really appreciate your support.”

“You go enjoy your weekend now,” she says. “Take care of yourself.” She pats his shoulder.

“Thank you, ma’am, you too,” Hux says. Ben is already tugging him away. 

“That was so weird,” Ben says, too loudly, as they walk towards their room. “Do people do that a lot?”

“All the time, when we’re in uniform,” Hux says. “I never really know what to say.”

Ben stops in front of a door and slides the keycard into the lock. “It’s just bizarre - I mean, what service is she thanking you for? You’re a college student.”

“We are active-duty, technically,” Hux says, defensively. “They have sent cadets to fight in the past.”

Ben rolls his eyes at that as he opens the door. “When was that? The Civil War?” The motel room is cold and smells faintly of mildew; there is an incongruous painting of dolphins over the bed. 

“World War I, I think, but that’s not the point,” Hux says. He pulls off his overcoat and gloves and sets them on the chair. “Do you really want to keep arguing about this right now?”

“Yeah,” says Ben, tackling Hux and pinning him down on the bed. “Or you could service me instead. I’d thank you for that.” 

“Do you have to be so disrespectful about everything?” Hux says irritably, even as he’s wrapping his legs around Ben’s waist and turning his head to run his tongue over the metal studs in the edge of Ben’s ear.

“Yes,” says Ben, grinding down against Hux with a groan. “Fuck, I love it when you do that.” He unsnaps Hux’s collar and yanks at the zipper of Hux’s tunic.

“Didn’t we say something about making you strip for me?” Hux says in his ear. “I think we should do that.”

“You want me to strip?” Ben closes his teeth gently over the side of Hux’s neck, still rubbing against him. “I can probably make that happen.”

“Do it, then.” Hux shoves Ben off him and props himself up against the headboard of the bed. “I want to watch you.”

“I like it when you give me orders,” Ben says, standing up and dropping his jacket on the floor. Under it, he’s wearing a tight black t-shirt that says “REVOLUTION” in curly red script - something that Hux would normally find ridiculous, but at the moment he’s distracted by the bulge in Ben’s jeans and the V-shape of his abs where his shirt has pulled up. 

Hux spreads his legs and palms himself through his trousers as Ben peels off his shirt and kneels down to unlace his boots. The muscles of his shoulders and chest bunch as he yanks off the boots. He looks up at Hux through his windblown dark hair, his eyes on Hux’s hand. “Keep going,” Hux says.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” Ben says, but he stands up and reaches for his fly. “You like watching me suffer?”

“Yeah,” Hux says, still stroking himself. “You still want me to inspect you? Let’s see it.”

“Yes, sir,” Ben says, grinning, as he kicks off his jeans. Hux arches his hips up against his hand, looking at Ben’s muscular thighs and at the way the dark fabric of his briefs stretches over his erection. Ben hooks his thumbs into waistband of his briefs and peels them off. Hux makes a sound in his throat at the sight of his cock, thick and red and jutting forward towards Hux, in spite of the chill in the room. Ben makes a move towards the bed.

“No, stay there,” Hux says, standing up, still fully dressed. His heart is beating furiously. “Spread your legs and put your hands behind your back so I can inspect you.”

Ben groans and complies. 

“Stand up straight,” Hux says. He adjusts Ben’s hands so that they’re crossed neatly at the small of his back.

Ben shivers as Hux walks slowly around him, looking him over. Standing naked at parade rest, his cock hard and his muscles trembling, Ben looks like every fantasy Hux has been trying not to have since puberty.

“Hux,” Ben says as Hux runs his fingertips down Ben’s chest and over the soft skin in the hollow of his hip, “don’t get me wrong, this is super fucking hot, but it’s like thirty degrees in here. Can we move this into the shower?”

“Sure,” Hux says, smacking Ben’s ass. “You want me to soap you up and make sure you’re clean?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ben says, walking towards the bathroom. “I mean, if you want a job done right, you need to do it yourself.”

Hux pulls off his dress-grey tunic and follows Ben into the bathroom in his white undershirt and suspenders. The gush of hot water from the showerhead makes a cloud of steam in the cold room. Ben slides under the water with a sigh of relief. His big ears poke through his wet hair. 

“Face the wall,” Hux says. “Legs apart. I want to look at you.”

Ben turns his back to Hux, putting his hands on the wall and looking at Hux over his shoulder. “Yeah? You like that?”

“Yeah,” Hux says, pumping soap into his hands and sliding his hands over Ben’s back, digging his thumbs into Ben’s shoulders and dragging them along the length of his spine, enjoying the feeling of the hard muscles tensing and relaxing under his hands. The steam from the shower is settling in his hair, dampening his cotton undershirt. “If we were in the showers together in the barracks,” he asks, squeezing Ben’s ass with both hands, rubbing a soapy thumb between his cheeks, “is this what you’d want me to do to you?”

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Ben pants, spreading his legs wider as Hux massages the sensitive spot behind his balls with two fingers, “I’d be so hard just from you looking at me... if you touched me like this I’d probably pass out.”

Hux lets go of Ben for a moment to pump more soap into his palms. “You ever jerk off thinking about that?” 

“Oh, shit... yeah.” Ben shudders as Hux slides a finger into him and crooks it curiously.

“What were you thinking about, exactly?”

Ben is squirming, thrusting his hips back against Hux’s hand, his hands tensing against the wall. “Ah - about jerking off in the public showers, and you walk in and catch me.”

“So what do I do when I catch you?” Hux runs his left hand down over Ben’s chest, bypassing his cock to stroke his balls gently. 

“Mmm... you ask me what the hell I’m doing. Tell me I’m disgusting, dirty, that I have no self-control... doing this where anyone could see me.” 

“Really? You want me to talk to you like that?”

“Yeah.” Ben is breathing heavily, bucking his hips as Hux runs his fingertips lightly up the length of Ben’s straining cock. “Hux... please touch me. Harder.”

“Keep talking,” Hux says, squeezing Ben’s cock, still fingering him with his other hand. Hux’s undershirt is soaked and his wool trousers are damp and much too hot, but he’s enjoying this, being fully clothed and apparently unaffected while Ben is wet and naked and falling apart in his hands. “What happens next?”

“Ah... I tell you, um. That I’m sorry I can’t control myself. I tell you, please don’t report me, I’ll do anything.” Hux freezes for a moment, wondering if Ben is trying to make some kind of point about Mitaka. “Don’t stop,” Ben says. Hux reaches for the soap again and begins pumping Ben’s cock firmly with his slippery hand. “Ah - I tell you that I’ll suck your cock, swallow your come, or you can come on my face, do anything you want to me...”

“Yeah? What do I say?”

“You say - oh, fuck - you tell me that before I get on my knees for you, you want me to finish what I was doing. Make myself come, show you how much I want it.”

“Is that what you want now?” Hux asks, watching the beautiful lines of Ben’s back and thighs as his muscles flex, as he rocks back and forth between Hux’s finger in his ass and Hux’s hand on his cock. His wet skin gleams under the harsh fluorescent lights. He’s making the little helpless high-pitched noises that mean he’s close. Hux is so hard that he can feel his heartbeat in his cock where it’s trapped against his thigh. “You want to come all over yourself and then suck me off?”

“Yes - please - make me come - I need it - I need your cock in my mouth - “ Hux works his hand up and down the length of Ben’s cock, stroking him faster now, feeling Ben clench around his finger. “Ah - _Hux_!” Ben’s body shudders as his come spurts warmly through Hux’s fingers. Ben sags against the wall, panting. “Fuck, that was good,” he says weakly. 

Hux is rinsing his hands off under the shower spray when Ben grabs him and kisses him, his tongue hot in Hux’s mouth, his wet hands tight on Hux’s upper arms. He stumbles out of the bathtub and goes down on his knees in front of Hux, yanking down Hux’s zipper and the waistband of his boxers, sliding his mouth down over Hux’s cock and sucking hard. 

Hux gasps for air, thrusting his hips forward without meaning to. Ben makes a sound as if he’s choking, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He squeezes Hux’s ass with both hands, bobbing his head, looking up at Hux with dreamy, half-glazed eyes. His lips are wet and red around Hux’s cock. Hux clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palms, trying to not to come immediately - but it’s too much, and he never can do it, never can resist, never can last with Ben’s mouth on him. Ben hums happily around Hux’s cock, his eyes drifting shut as if he’s savoring the taste of it - and Hux shivers and gasps, doubling over and clutching at Ben’s shoulders as Ben sucks him through his orgasm. 

Afterwards Hux kneels shakily down on the floor next to Ben, sliding his hands into Ben’s wet hair and kissing him. He’s stopped minding the taste of come in Ben’s mouth. Then he catches sight of his watch. “Fuck, I have to be back on post in fifteen minutes,” he says. Something else occurs to him as well. “Shit - I forgot to sign out before we left!”

“Oh no,” says Ben, sounding amused, as Hux hops up and begins frantically pulling his uniform back together. “Just tell them you needed your boyfriend’s dick so bad you didn’t have time to sign out.”

Hux’s shoulders tense slightly at the word _boyfriend_ , but he decides not to object. “That would really be the definition of an own goal,” he says instead.

“Poor Hux,” Ben says, following him out into the bedroom and watching as he throws his tunic and overcoat on over his unpleasantly wet undershirt. There are damp handprints on his trousers. “It would really suck if you didn’t get to be a general because you went AWOL for a blowjob.”

“Shut up,” Hux says, fleeing. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

***

When Hux comes back to the motel early Sunday morning, Ben is still asleep. Outside, the sky is still startlingly blue and clear, but the temperature has dropped into the teens overnight. The wind off the river stings Hux’s face and brings tears to his eyes. A few determined cadets are out jogging on the base, but in the little town outside the gate the streets are deserted. The brilliant sunlight outlines the shuttered shops and the squat bulk of the motel in gold.

The motel room still seems only marginally warmer than the air outside. Ben is visible only as a lump and a smudge of dark hair under a pile of rust-colored blankets; he seems to have pulled the bedding off both the room’s beds and made a sort of large polyester cocoon to sleep in. Hux undresses down to his undershirt and boxers and tugs the cocoon open enough to allow him to slide inside and fit himself against Ben’s back. Under the blankets Ben is wearing only his briefs; his skin feels scorchingly hot after the cold outside. 

“Ugh, your hands are freezing,” Ben says sleepily as Hux wraps himself around Ben from behind.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ben covers Hux’s cold hands with his warm ones and wriggles back against Hux with a contented sigh. “Did you get in trouble?”

“No. As far as I can tell. I don’t think anyone noticed that I left without signing out.” Mitaka had noticed, probably. But his only reaction had been to give Hux a scared smile when Hux returned to the room, out of breath from running all the way from the motel in his dress shoes. 

“Mmm, too bad. If you were in trouble we could just run away.” Ben’s wriggling is starting to feel more purposeful; Hux is getting hard, rubbing up against him. He presses his nose into Ben’s hair and breathes in, rolling his hips against Ben’s ass. “Hello,” Ben says, sounding pleased.

“Hi,” Hux says, a little breathlessly. He slides his hand down over Ben’s chest, over the ripples of his abs, into his briefs. Ben jerks against him with a grunt as Hux squeezes his rapidly-hardening cock. “Can I fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, breathing harder, thrusting up into his hand. “I told you. You can do anything you want to me.”

***

On Thanksgiving Day, the subway ride from 86th Street to Brighton Beach is longer than Hux had expected. By the time they get to their stop, there are only two other people left in the car, and Ben has been asleep on Hux’s shoulder for twenty minutes, his face buried in Hux’s neck, one arm thrown across Hux’s lap. Hux has watched one Brooklyn neighborhood after another pass by through the windows of the elevated train as he mentally rehearsed various platonic explanations for the way Ben is sprawled across him, but no one seems to particularly care. 

Brendol had accepted Hux’s explanation that he would be spending Thanksgiving with friends without question or comment, so Hux and Ben have spent most of the past 24 hours trying to avoid Ben’s family. Ben’s uncle Luke has, in fact, come to visit for the holiday, a fact which seems to enrage Ben. As a result, when Hux’s train arrived at Grand Central on Wednesday afternoon, they went directly to a movie theater in Times Square.

“Let’s go see _Underworld_ ,” Ben suggested.

“What about _Kill Bill_?” Hux asked. “You’ve been raving about that movie for weeks and how it was influenced by Kurosawa or whatever. I thought you wanted me to see it.”

“I do but I want you to actually pay attention when you watch it,” Ben explained, grinning. “Right now I don’t want to watch a movie that we actually need to pay attention to.” 

“We can’t do anything here,” Hux said, exasperated, but once they were actually alone together in a dark corner of the theater, with the crashing soundtrack of the movie drowning out any noise, he didn’t have the willpower to stop Ben from sliding a hand between his legs and stroking him through his slacks until letting Ben lean over and suck him off began to seem like a more sensible option than coming in his pants. He did, however, refuse to reciprocate; post-orgasm, the idea of an usher catching him with Ben’s cock in his mouth seemed more terrifying than hot. 

Instead, he let Ben pull his hand into Ben’s lap, under his jacket, and they spent the rest of the movie like that: Hux’s hand resting lightly on Ben’s crotch, feeling the bulge of his erection through his jeans, while Ben shifted his hips and squirmed in his chair and took little sobbing breaths whenever Hux decided to stroke him more firmly through the denim.

“I can’t believe you’re teasing me like this,” Ben whispered breathily in his ear when Hux withdrew his hand altogether in response to Ben’s efforts to thrust up against it. “You’re so mean.”

“I thought that was what you liked about me,” Hux replied, sliding his hand back over Ben’s thigh and giving his cock another brief squeeze that made Ben arch his back and gasp. Ben didn’t deny it, so Hux went back to letting his palm rest just where he could feel the head of Ben’s cock jutting through his jeans, intermittently pressing down or kneading the shaft with his fingers.

By the time the lights came up, Ben looked as if he’d been drinking heavily: his face was flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips swollen and red. “ _Hux_ ,” he said as they stumbled out onto the street. “You’re fucking killing me.”

On the subway, Ben took advantage of the packed rush-hour conditions to press against Hux from behind, rocking his erection against Hux through their clothes as the train rattled its way uptown. 

“You know, there are hotlines I could call about someone like you,” Hux whispered over his shoulder. 

“What, you don’t think you can handle me yourself?” Ben asked, breathing heavily in his ear.

“Is that a challenge?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to finally let me come, then sure.”

They succeeded in arriving at an empty apartment: Ben had carefully calculated when they would be least likely to encounter his uncle, based on a series of texts from his mother inviting him and Hux to join the family for dinner in Chinatown. Which gave Hux the opportunity to order Ben to strip and get on his knees so that Hux could fuck him, slow and deep, one hand in Ben’s hair, pulling his head back, first tentatively and then more firmly when Ben groaned in response. 

Afterwards, they ordered pizza and sat in the elegant living room to eat it, both wearing Ben’s oversized basketball shorts and stretched-out band t-shirts. Hux had brought his Army PT uniform with him to wear in the house, but Ben had vetoed all Army paraphernalia for the duration of the weekend. 

“So what’s with you and your uncle, anyway?” Hux asked, watching with faint horror as Ben folded a slice of pizza in half with one big hand and licked a stray drop of grease off his wrist.

“Ugh, where do I start,” Ben said. “He’s one of these weirdly judgmental hippies. Like, you can’t ever admit to having any problems around him because he always wants to solve it with yoga and meditation and juice, and then if you don’t do what he says it means anything bad that happens to you is your fault.” Ben paused to take an angry bite of pizza. “He runs this New Age-y wellness center in upstate New York. A wellness center that he kicked me out of when I was a depressed sixteen-year-old, so, you know, thanks a lot for the support.”

“Wait,” Hux said. “That’s where you went when you disappeared? When we were in eleventh grade?”

“I’m surprised you remember that.”

 _Of course I remember that, I checked your stupid LiveJournal every day for months wondering if you were ever coming back_ , Hux thought. “Everyone was talking about it at the time,” he said. “I always wanted to ask you what happened.”

“You still want to know?” Ben asked, half-belligerently, looking up at Hux through his hair.

“Sure.”

Ben took a deep breath. “Okay, so, you know, after Poe dumped me, I was... not okay. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I was like a zombie all the time. For weeks. I’d wind up, like, eating peanut butter out of a jar at 3AM because I felt too nauseous to eat anything at dinner.” He grimaced, hunching his shoulders defensively. “I know, that’s a really sexy mental image.”

“It’s okay,” Hux said. “I’m only using you for your body anyway. I don’t care about your weird personal habits.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Anyway, I was fighting with my mom all the time, because my dad mostly wasn’t around, and she kept trying to get me to snap out of it. Oh, and she kept telling me the breakup was my fault.”

“Really? She said that?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of. You know, she loves Poe. They still have brunch every time he comes back to the city, it’s really annoying.” He sighed. “Anyway, the thing with Poe that drove me crazy, that he and I were always fighting about, was that I always felt like he was flirting with other people all the time and it made me nuts. I couldn’t deal with it.”

“I guess you’re lucky that’s not really something I do,” Hux observed.

Ben laughed. “Yeah, with you it’s like the opposite problem. You definitely don’t flirt with other people, but sometimes I think you might be a robot from the future who was sent back in time to kill me.”

“Oh thanks,” Hux said. “I suppose I must really be playing the long game if that’s what I’m here to do.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, looking at Hux intently. “Although I’m probably not destined to be the savior of humanity, so you might just be hanging around me until your real target comes along.” 

“Anyway,” Hux said, “so what happened?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ben looked down at his plate. “Well, my mom kept trying to tell me that what I saw as flirting was just how Poe talks to everyone, that he’s just a friendly guy, whatever. That it didn’t mean anything and I needed to relax. And after we broke up, she was just, like, ‘I told you so! You can’t be so possessive and crazy, it drives people away.’” He sighed again. “So... we were having that fight again, standing in the kitchen, and I lost it. I blew up at her. I was like, okay, maybe you don’t care if my dad is off fucking other women all the time, but that’s not the kind of relationship I want to have.”

“Ouch,” Hux commented. “What did she say?”

“Uh... she slapped me.”

“That seems fair.”

“I guess. But. She’d never hit me before, ever. I was really startled. And I shoved her.” He looked up at Hux, his eyes wide. “I know, I know, I’m a terrible person. I didn’t mean to do it so hard. But she fell. And hit her head on the edge of the granite countertop.”

“Oh no,” said Hux, not sure what else to say.

“I know! It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Don’t look at me like that. I would never hit you. I never hit Poe.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” said Hux indignantly. “And I’m not afraid of you. I can handle myself in a fight.”

“I know you can,” Ben said, his face softening. “I like that about you. Anyway, she had to go to the ER; she had a concussion. She told them she slipped.”

“I’m sure they didn’t find that suspicious at all.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I think she covered for me because she felt guilty about slapping me.” He stared at the remnants of his pizza. “Anyway, she had been trying to get me to go see a psychiatrist, to start taking Prozac or something, and I wouldn’t do it. I still wouldn’t, even after that. But I did agree to give my uncle’s stupid yoga goat farm a try.”

Hux laughed. “I guess that didn’t go so well?”

“Actually, it kind of worked, for a while. Mostly I was just so bored, with no Internet and no school, and only therapy and hippie crap to do, that I started painting again, and working out all the time.” He grinned at Hux, lifting his shirt and flexing. “I’ve kept that up. As you see.”

Hux rolled his eyes. “I suppose I should thank your uncle for that at least. But why did he kick you out?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ben laughed. “Uh, I started sleeping with this other patient, this blond girl with a drug problem. Jenna. Anyway, that pissed off my uncle. He said we were both too fragile for intimacy and that we needed to focus on healing. Then he walked in on me going down on her and said he couldn’t deal with me anymore and sent me home.”

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” Hux said. “I suppose I should have figured it would be something like that.”

Ben shrugged. “Well, she was sad, and I’m good with my mouth. As you know.”

“You went down on her because she was _sad_?”

“Don’t sound so scandalized. It works on you too.” He reached for Hux. “Want a demonstration?”

Hux leaned away from Ben’s fingers, still greasy from the pizza. “Only if you wash your hands first.”

***

As they step out of the subway station, the wind hits Hux like a punch. In Manhattan, it had been a pleasantly crisp fall day; out in Brighton Beach, the wet, salt-smelling wind cuts through Hux’s clothes as if they aren’t there. 

Ben is observing him. “You okay?” Ben is, uncharacteristically, wearing an enormous puffy black parka with a fur-lined hood. Apparently he knew.

“I’m fine,” Hux says, not wanting to admit that he chose the tailored black dress coat he is wearing less for reasons of practicality than because he wanted Ben to see him in it. Its sleek lines broaden his shoulders and make his narrowness look intentional, like a fashion statement. Hux sets his teeth and tries not to visibly shiver. 

The neighborhood behind the beach is grim-looking, a mixture of blocky brick apartment buildings and storefronts that mostly seem to be chained shut. Ben seems pleased, however. “Look, you can see the ocean!” he says happily, as they walk through an intersection where the wind seems particularly icy. The ocean looks just as bleak as the rest - grey and choppy under an overcast sky. Hux silently vows to explore the landscapes of Ben’s happy childhood memories only on summer days in the future. 

Ben pauses in front of a tiny shop whose gigantic exhaust fans are blowing warm, meaty smells all down the street. Inside, an elderly woman in a purple jacket is standing behind a cash register, under a fluorescent light. She looks at them with a kind of resigned, low-level hostility. Ben orders a dozen piroshkis and a Coke. She takes his money, disappears into the back, and returns to hand him a steaming, grease-stained bag, all without speaking. 

The frigid wind blows even more ferociously as they walk towards the beach. Ben pulls his enormous hood up over his head. Hux, for aesthetic reasons, is not wearing a hat; his ears are starting to go numb. “Hux, you must be freezing,” Ben says, putting an arm around him.

Hux shivers violently. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Hux, I appreciate that you’re trying to embrace my Russian heritage, but you don’t have to take it to the extreme of insisting that you’re not cold while you die slowly of hypothermia.”

“Is that what Russian people do?”

“Well, Russian men, mainly. It’s a macho thing.“ They’ve now reached the deserted boardwalk. The beach looks like the surface of the moon, white and pitted and inhospitable to human life. “Hux, here,” Ben says, sitting down on a bench and unzipping his coat. “Don’t be a martyr.”

“I’m not taking your coat,” Hux says. “I’m sure the food will warm me up.”

“I’m not giving you my coat. Come sit on my lap, I’ll keep you warm.” He holds his coat open. 

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. No one’s looking at us.”

“That’s because everyone else had more sense than to go anywhere near the North Atlantic in November.”

“Exactly. We have it all to ourselves.” Ben is still holding his parka open. Hux is too cold to continue to protest; he sits down on Ben’s lap and leans back against his solid chest. Ben wraps his enormous coat around both of them, enveloping Hux in warmth. “Hux, your ears are like icicles,” Ben says, nuzzling at them. The stubble around his lips feels like sparks against Hux’s skin.

Hux breathes out, feeling as if he is beginning to slowly thaw from the outside in. His arms are trapped, but he doesn’t want to move. “How are we going to eat like this?”

“I’ll feed you.” Ben takes off his gloves and fishes a piroshki out of the bag. “Here.” He holds the still-steaming bun up to Hux’s mouth. 

Hux bites into it, narrowly missing Ben’s thumb, starting to laugh. “If anyone takes a picture of us doing this I’ll have to have them killed,” he says around a mouthful of piroshki. It tastes indulgent, warm and savory.

“This is still New York,” Ben says, shrugging against Hux’s back. “Everyone could care less what we’re doing as long as we keep our pants mostly on.”

“No danger of anything like that in this weather,” Hux says.

“If you say so.” They eat in silence for a few minutes. Hux stares forward at the churning surf. Halfway through the third piroshki, Ben says, “Hux? Can I ask you something?”

“Oh no,” Hux says. “What?”

“I was just wondering.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Does your father ever hit you?”

“What? No,” says Hux, startled. “Where did that come from?”

“Well, he sounds like an asshole, from everything you’ve told me. And yesterday you didn’t seem very surprised when I told you about my mom slapping me. You looked more surprised when I told you she’d never done it before.”

“That’s because you say things that make me want to slap you all the time,” Hux says. “I’m entirely in sympathy with your mother on that point.”

Ben laughs. “I was being serious.”

“So was I,” says Hux. He pauses, then goes on matter-of-factly. It’s easier to talk like this, looking at the grey waves, with his back to Ben and the wind whistling around them. “He used to hit me when I was little. If I cried. So I stopped doing that and he stopped hitting me.”

“Wait,” Ben says. “When you were little? Like, when you were six and your mother died, he would hit you for crying?”

“Yes.”

“That’s horrible.”

“In his defense,” Hux says, “I’m fairly sure he never wanted to be a parent.”

“That’s not a defense. Please tell me he didn’t actually say that to you.”

“Not in so many words.” This is not something he ever discusses voluntarily. “I was not - planned,” he says eventually. “My parents weren’t married.”

“Oh,” Ben says. “I didn’t know.”

“I think my mother was a secretary or some kind of junior staffer at the financial firm where my father worked in London,” Hux says. “I don’t know much about her, because my father refuses to talk about her, and he didn’t keep any of her things. But I know he was married to someone else. I found the divorce paperwork when I was twelve. The date was right around the time of my mother’s death, so I assume the divorce was because of me.”

“Wait,” Ben says. “So - “

“That was when I first went to live with my father, yes. When my mother had to be hospitalized. I barely knew who he was before that.” Hux remembers that period of time mostly in sounds and temperatures. It had been an unusually hot summer, and his mother’s tiny flat didn’t have air-conditioning. In the small room he shared with her, there had been a fan in front of the open window, and the noise of the street outside came in incessantly. When he had suddenly found himself alone in his father’s soundless, artificially-chilled guestroom, it had been fundamentally disorienting, like being abducted by aliens. 

“Jesus, Hux, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like,” Ben is saying, squeezing him hard. His big nose juts into Hux’s hair. “I’m really sorry - I won’t make any more stupid comments about being raised by a wire monkey, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Hux says. “Making stupid comments is one of your primary activities. I don’t know what you’d do with all the free time you’d suddenly have if you stopped.”

“Watch it with insulting your life-support system,” Ben says, still hugging him. “What’s to stop me from letting you freeze?”

“If you did you wouldn’t be able to give me blowjobs anymore.”

“That is a strong argument in your favor, admittedly,” Ben says. 

Hux shifts his weight, turning to lean against Ben’s shoulder, looking down the beach. The clouds are moving so quickly in the wind that the apartment towers silhouetted against them look as if they are sailing through the air. Gulls float overhead. In the distance, the spokes of Coney Island’s Wonder Wheel stand out starkly against the horizon, like the skeleton of a crashed spaceship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: in this chapter, Ben describes what may be a depressive episode that he had in high school, after his break-up with Poe. During that period, he had an argument with his mother; she slapped him and he shoved her, causing her to fall, hit her head, and go to the hospital with a concussion. He describes refusing to take medication for depression and going to a “New Age-y” clinic instead. Also, Hux briefly describes/remembers the circumstances of his mother’s death and says that his father used to hit him if he cried when he was a child. None of this is very graphic.
> 
> Sexual content: it’s what it says in the tags. I still see them as switch/vers but Ben is somewhat submissive here. The “semi-public sex” is a blowjob in a movie theater; they don’t get caught. The fingering bit describes using soap as lube. The Ben/OFC reference is brief: Ben mentions having sex with a fellow (female) patient at the clinic where he was being treated for depression when he was 16. Her age isn’t stated but they’re meant to be about the same age.

**Author's Note:**

> This one went a bit soft on me. More angst and drama next time, I promise. 
> 
> In the meantime, I’m on Twitter as LydiaBSlade, and I would love to hear from you!


End file.
